


A Good Idea

by Sherlock1110



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 03:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: Sherlock gets dragged to the royal wedding by his brother and his father. Let’s just say he’s not best pleased.





	A Good Idea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sherlockian4evr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/gifts).



> Happy to you John

“Sherlock, come on.”

The detective flopped back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. His bedroom door was locked and he was resolutely not going to this stupid wedding. He went to John’s what more did the world want? He grabbed the spare pillow and covered his head with it. 

With a heavy sigh out in the hall, Mycroft pulled his brother’s lock picking kit from his Belstaff and set about breaking into his baby brother’s bedroom with his baby brother’s tools. Within seconds, he was in. 

“Oh, Sherlock, do grow up.”

“I’ve been to a wedding in the last decade. I don’t have to go to another.”

Mycroft huffed, “father will be here in an hour.”

“Well father can trot on down to Windsor on his own... or with you in your sharp suit, leave me here.”

Getting pissed off, the government official paced across the room, grabbed his bratty baby brother by the scruff of the neck and hauled him from the bed. With one foot, he kicked the bathroom door open then threw Sherlock inside. “Shower, baby brother, before I come in there and do it for you.”

Sherlock clearly took the threat as it was meant as he slammed the door shut and Mycroft heard the lock click. He kept the lock picking set close to hand for when it was next needed and sat on his brother’s bed. 

The suit he had ordered for his baby brother hung on a hanger untouched, which Mycroft was surprised about as if Sherlock was determined on not going to the wedding wouldn’t he have... dismantled it or something?

After a few minutes, Mycroft heard the shower turn off and Sherlock came from the bathroom without him having to force entry - he was rather looking forward to that be. 

“Get dressed, baby brother.”

“Not with you sitting there, I’m not,” Sherlock snapped back petulantly. 

Mycroft got to his feet with a pointed huff and grabbed the tie from around the hanger, taking it with him from the bedroom. 

“Mycroft, what the fu-“

“I’m not stupid, little brother. It will end up as a window dressing, pavement dressing, a new hook for the shower curtain or something else equally ridiculous if I leave you to deal with it unsupervised. Now, get dressed.”

Mycroft closed his brother’s bedroom door then lowered him to the task of putting the kettle on, aware their father would be there any minute. 

When Sherlock stormed from the bedroom, Mycroft could help but laugh. 

“Do your shirt up, Sherlock, you know, in case your land lady drops by.”

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring his brother. He was such a prat! Even so, he did his shirt up. 

“Collar up,” Mycroft ordered next wrapping the tie around his neck. 

“Yeah, I can manage this bit alone,” he stepped back, a silky look on his face. 

“Father is here, best behaviour little brother.”

***

Siger offered a small smirk, as his eldest pushed Sherlock from the car, keeping him in front of him the whole time. 

“Do not step out of my sight, little brother,” Mycroft hissed in his ear. 

“You are such a twat, Mycroft.”

The government official rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Sherlock,” the older man’s voice was low. “Half the people in that church will hold far more power than myself, so hold your tongue.”

“Couldn’t I have stayed in Eastern Europe rather than you calling me home in 5 minutes? The last one of these events was far more impressive from a distance.”

By this point they’d approached the security detail at the front of the church, Prince William and Prince Harry stood there chatting away as if they were trying to prove their identity to gain access to the church. 

Siger paused his two boys to greet the two princes, well aware, Sherlock was not best pleased by the situation. 

From out of nowhere, Prince William dragged Sherlock aside. “I believe we owe you our thanks, Mr. Holmes.”

The detective frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“The scandal in 2014, concerning my uncle,” the prince prompted. 

Sherlock’s eyes widened, that was ages ago, how was he supposed to remember a deleted case? 

“Oh right, of course. It was no problem at all.” Sherlock found himself feeling incredibly awkward and actually wanted Mycroft to appear and drag him away. 

William glanced across at his brother. “I should go.” He held his hand out. “Thanks again, Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock let out a sigh as William headed into the church with Harry and Mycroft joined him. 

“Well done for not offending him, brother dear.”

“He mentioned something about 2014. I don’t really recall...”

“The award you received,” Mycroft said with a laugh. “That was what it was for,” he shook his head still laughing as he spotted their father waving them over. 

“Why are we here?” Sherlock hissed in his brother’s ear. 

“This is a big deal, Sherlock. You have to be here. And you have to be good.”

“You’ll be sitting between us,” Siger pointed out as they reached the row they were sat on, merely 3 from the front. 

The detective merely rolled his eyes, choosing not to respond, until, “Why make me come if you don’t trust me?” 

“You’re a Holmes,” Siger whispered, his tone brook no argument and it just made Sherlock sigh. 

Once they were seated, many others came into the church and sat down, Sherlock was eyeing them all up, deducing each one. If John was there, he’d be deducing them all out loud for the blond to laugh at but alas, he had no gold fish to keep him entertained. 

Mycroft watched him out the corner of his eye, well aware what his bratty brother was thinking about and what he was up to. He was glad and a little proud that he was choosing to do it in his head. 

***

The government official pulled his brother to his feet by his arm with the rest of the church as it was clear, Megan was about to enter. 

With annoying music in the background, Sherlock stared at his shoes, thinking about how he would much rather be with Lestrade at the Yard than stood here in some dumb suit. 

Mycroft elbowed him discreetly when Prince Charles moved to walk with Megan the rest of the way down. Sherlock’s eyes fell on the boys and girls behind her and the government official could clearly tell what he was thinking. 

When they all sat down, Mycroft whispered in his brother’s ear, “that boy will be king one day.”

“What?”

“There are three future kings in this room, so behave.”

Sherlock merely rolled his eyes and glanced at his father who was watching with far more interest that he could even pretend to muster up. 

After several words, that Sherlock missed, Harry and Megan were moved to the side and some guy stepped up to talk. 

“Oh good lord,” the detective muttered, leaning forward to hide his head behind the seat back in front of him. 

Siger pulled him up by the scruff of the neck. “You’re a Holmes,” he hissed in his ear. “Act like it.”

“This guy is boring,” Sherlock muttered back. 

Siger didn’t respond, the preacher was going on a bit but he wasn’t about to agree with his youngest. 

“Just behave.”

“Or what?”

It was Mycroft who intervened. “Or I will the good Inspector at the Yard avoid you for the foreseeable future.”

Sherlock grit his teeth in a sulk, half expecting to fall asleep. Glancing between his brother and father, he realised that wasn’t such a bad idea.


End file.
